


Escape the Stasis

by Copperheid



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Gen, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copperheid/pseuds/Copperheid
Summary: 8 months have passed since the peace talks between President Warren and the android leaders. The first progressions in android rights have finally been enacted into law.Androids now have a right to work, and to a minimum wage.Connor is very excited to make use of that new freedom.Gavin, however? Decidedly less so.





	Escape the Stasis

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into fanfiction in over 6 years so please be kind to me.  
> Sorry if my formatting is horrible - I'm used to just uploading a document straight from word to fanfiction.net. This has a lot more steps and as such is pretty intimidating.

For the first time since the night he infiltrated Cyberlife tower eight months prior, Connor was nervous. Possibly even more so than he had been that night, despite it not making much sense to be. His life isn’t on the line, nor is the fate of his entire race. It’s just an interview. An interview for a job he has already proven his aptitude for, no less. Connor supposes that is just in his nature now. Emotions aren’t a rational thing, after all. 

“Will you stop fussing? It’ll be fine.” Hank chides, swatting Connor’s hand away from where he had been fiddling absently with his tie.

“Sorry, Hank. I just…” Connor grapples for the words that would explain his thought process best, but he can’t quite make sense of it. Luckily, after months of letting Connor idle around on his couch, Hank is pretty well attuned to his inner workings, and seems to know what he means without him having to actually articulate it. Hank nods, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.  
“I know things are still tense, son, I get it. I really do, but you gotta trust me on this. I’ve spoken to Fowler, numerous times in fact, and I know he’s an asshole but he’s not a stupid asshole. He knows you’re damn good at your job. Well, when you’re not powersliding into the path of a moving truck that is.”  
Connor smiles, amused by Hank’s teasing, but the wrinkle in his brow betrays his persistent uncertainty. Still, he lets out a little bemused huff. “Well, technically that wasn’t me.”  
Hank releases his shoulder to give him a gentle shove. “Whatever you say, kiddo. Whatever you say. Just don’t go pulling that kind of shit again, you hear me? You’re not replaceable.”  
“I know.” Connor agrees. “Not like Cyberlife would replace me anyway after I so royally fucked them over.”  
Hank snorts, amused. “Exactly! Not to mention, even if they did, he wouldn’t be the same. He wouldn’t be you. And damn it, I actually like you.”  
The fondness in Hank’s voice helps eases Connor’s tension. His shoulders relax and his brow unfurrows. The corner of his mouth quirks up in warm, lopsided smile. “Yeah, I know, you old sapp.”  
“Don’t be cute.” Hank feigns annoyance, but Connor can tell he isn't actually offended. “Now get out of my goddamn car.”

They were parked outside of the precinct, and had been for the past 11 minutes and 38 seconds. Ordinarily, they would have gotten out of the car as soon as they arrived, but Connor’s anxious impatience had led them to a rushed exit from Hank's house, and a subsequently early arrival.  
Now, a mere 15 minutes earlier than the interview was scheduled to begin, it seemed more appropriate to arrive.  
Without a word,Connor unfastens his seatbelt and exits the car. Hank follows him.  
They walk up the stone steps to the station doors, and Hank holds open the door for Connor.  
“Ladies first” he offers with a wink.  
There is a lingering pause as Connor stares at him, expression blank. Hank thinks he can almost see the gears moving in Connor’s head as he tries to figure out what he meant. Hank is wrong of course.  
A moment passes, then Connor raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. “Well, Lieutenant?”  
“‘Well’ what?”  
“It’s ladies first, so shouldn’t you be getting a move on?”  
It was a lame old joke, but so was insinuating Connor was a lady in the first place. Hank could hardly judge. In fact, he found it almost unbearably cute.  
“Yeah yeah, very funny. Now quit stalling, you.”  
Connor finally walks through the open door and Hank follows him inside.  
Connor must check in at the reception desk, but Hank can head straight inside. “I’ll see you in a bit Connor. Don’t fuck it up!” He calls cheerfully over his shoulder as he heads to his desk. I’ll try not to disappoint, Connor thinks to himself.  
He approaches the reception desk, where a young human girl waits. Samira Hicks, 24. Her thick kinky hair is held in a twisted protective style and adorned with beads. Connor can smell the fruity flavour of her bubblegum, though it’s artificial quality makes it hard to place what fruit it is actually supposed to be. Her vibrancy and life stands out so much from the android receptionists Connor was used to, none of whom were in sight. Just Samira and an older Polish gentleman, who has a criminal record for assaulting a door to door salesman in 2002. Anton Piatkowski. He was occupied, so Connor went straight for Samira.  
“Hey there!” She says, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “What can I do for you today?”  
Connor straightens his tie again. “I’m here for an interview with Captain Fowler about returning to my previous post.”  
“Ah yes, you must be the RK800. Connor right? Nice to meet you. I’m Sam” she offers her hand to shake, and Connor takes it.  
“Yeah that's right. I'm Connor.” He offers a smile of his own as he shakes her hand politely.  
“The captain is free at the moment so he should be able to see you now.”  
“Great, thanks!” Connor says as he moves towards the security gate and through the main doors for the precinct. Through the glass walls of the Captain’s office, he can see Fowler sitting at his desk, reading something on a tablet.  
Connor walks towards the office with purpose and grace, which is bruntly dissolved when he is spotted by Detective Gavin Reed.  
Reed steps into Connor’s path, a step too far into Connor’s preferred zone of personal space. Close enough that Connor can see the individual pores on Reed’s face and feel the heat of his breath on his skin. It’s...uncomfortable.  
“Well well well, lookie here. If it ain’t Anderson’s little plastic Pinocchio. Still trying to be a real boy, huh?”  
Connor just ignores him, bumping his shoulder as he pushes past him towards the Captain once more.  
“Hey!” Reed snapped indignantly. He grabs the back of Connor’s blaser to tug him back. “I’m talking to you.”  
Connor has purposefully ignored Reed so many times and always recieved such a response - to the point that he begins to wonder if that’s all the rude detective is capable of saying.

Connor weighs out his options in a couple of split seconds. He can continue to ignore Reed, which would likely result in him being assaulted. He can talk shit back, which will probably lead to a similar outcome as the former. He could call to Hank for help, which would be like an admittance of defeat to Gavin. Definitely not. He could defend himself - but it's hardly likely that he’d get the job if that occurs.  
That leaves but one option.  
Connor slides his arms out of the blazer jacket in one fluid motion, abandoning the formal look he was going for, and walks as quickly as he can to Captain Fowler’s office, leaving Gavin behind him in stunned silence.

Connor knocks on the office door and waits patiently for an answer from Fowler. He catches the eye of Hank, who is sitting at his desk and watching him curiously. Connor knows he must be wondering where his jacket is, or why he took so long to walk over to the door, but Connor doesn’t have time to explain. Fowler has opened the door.

“Come in, Connor.” He says.

Connor is unsure if he should sit down or not. Fowler didn’t offer him a chair, not had he ever in the past. Androids didn’t do a lot of sitting before. They have no real need for rest, and courtesy afforded to humans were rarely extended to android people. Still, Connor couldn't quite place why, but he felt unspeakably awkward standing by Fowler’s desk waiting for him to speak.

Fowler sits back at his desk, opens his tablet, and looks up at Connor.

“Y’know, rehiring protocol hasn’t really been outlined yet.” his expression is cold. “This could be a lot of paperwork for me. But I also recognise that your expertise with androids could prove invaluable, and you do have specialist skills which may be useful to the force.”

Connor just blinks. Aren't interviewers supposed to ask you things? Why is Fowler just talking at him?

Fowler continues “A new law has passed that requires that I pay you a wage for your work...so tell me, why should I hire you over a human who needs that money for food, a home, and to support their family?”

Connor is caught off guard by that. He racks his thoughts for something, anything he can use to persuade Fowler to his cause. It's true that Connor doesn’t need much money. Perhaps enough to rent a little place to get out of Hank’s hair, maybe get some decorations, a few house plants, keep the lights on...but it's true that Connor doesn’t have any hungry mouths to feed. These are all just shallow wants, a fantasy he could contentedly live without in all honesty. Truly, Connor doesn’t care much about the money at all. Connor just wants to return to work because he enjoys it. He likes the feeling of being useful, of helping. He had tried to channel that into cooking, cleaning, gardening, caring for Sumo - but Connor isn’t naturally gifted for these things. He has to look up recipes on the web just like any human would. He just wasn’t built for that.

“Umm…because I want to help. I want to be useful again. Lieutenant Anderson doesn’t need a gardener or a maid or a dog walker. His place only takes a couple of hours to clean, he walks Sumo himself...I’m useless there. What he does need is someone to keep him away from the liquor, for one thing. He needs a friend, and a partner to keep him focused. And we worked well together even before we started getting along. I’ve gotten him to open up to me, and not just anybody can do that, Captain. I’m also happy to accept the minimum wage, which is still far, far less than you would pay a human detective. 

Connor looks at Fowler, whose expression is blank and Connor guesses that he is unimpressed.  
What more could he add?

Connor clears his throat to quell the shaky quality that had imbued his nervousness into his voice. “...and because legally speaking, as of last week you cannot deny me employment on the basis of me being an Android. While I technically worked for the Cyberlife department of justice, the new court ruling gave the police control over their existing shared contracts, including my own. And since neither you nor Cyberlife officially fired me, I should already be on the payroll, sir. The paperwork will probably be more simple than you had been lead to believe. In any case, I would be happy to assist you in filing them should there be any difficulties.”

It's only when he finishes speaking that Connor notices how sharply he had dug his fingernails into his palm. He cannot feel pain after all, so the blue blood wetting his fingers was a surprise. He releases the pressure, proceeding to bite his lip in earnest instead. Please. This has to be enough.

Fowler finally meets Connor's eyes with his own, for the first time ever. He then proceeds to roll them with a slightly cynical smirk.

“Yeah yeah, alright. Just don’t make me regret this. If this comes back to bite me in the ass in any way, you’re gone. Got it?” Fowler turns his interest back to his tablet as soon as the final words leave his lips.

Connor has to hold back a shriek of delight. He couldn’t believe that’s what he was hearing. This bizarre, stilted job interview was so out-with his expectations in every way. His panicked rambling had somehow worked. 

Connor begins to “Got it! I won’t let you down, sir! Thank you for this opp-”  
“Close the door on your way out” Fowler interrupts without looking up from the book he is reading.  
Just like old times.


End file.
